A/N: This chapter was originally the second half of chapter three. However, since I am utterly incapable of writing anything concisely, it grew and lengthened and spawned a rather lighter chapter all its own. But never fear, the angst will be back in due course…;)
4: The Marauder
Dinnertime rolled around. Pulling on his shabby robes and ignoring the creak of his weary bones, Remus made his way downstairs towards the pool of light and cacophony of sound that was a kitchen full of Weasleys.
And full it was. Although Arthur, it seemed, had yet to return from work, Bill was helping his mother ladle stew onto the plates hindered as much as helped by the twins. Ron, Ginny and Harry were clustered together at the far end of the table, packing away a set of gobstones to make room for their servings, whilst Nymphadora Tonks, who appeared to be joining them, lingered rather anxiously just out of Molly’s range. Evidence that she had already tried to help lay in the cracked plate that Mrs Weasley herself was repairing.
“Honestly Tonks, you really need to be more careful… no, no, just sit down dear, we can manage, really…”
“But I wanted to help! I’m sorry about the plate…”
“I know dear, but really, just sit down.”
Looking vaguely distressed, Tonks plonked herself unceremoniously down next to the grinning twins and spotted Remus lingering in the doorway.
“Wotcher Remus,” she greeted brightly, eying him with concern as he moved slightly unsteadily into the kitchen and settled himself at the table. “You look rough, mate. You all right?”
“Tonks!” Molly reprimanded sharply. “Don’t be rude!”
Remus bit back a grin as he stretched slightly against the protesting aches of his body and rubbed his cheek with the heel of his hand. “That’s quite all right, Molly. I do look rough, after all. And I’m fine thank you Tonks.”
Tonks grinned at him as she collected her now mended plate. Molly gave him an uncertain smile.
Remus knew that smile. Five, four, three, two…
“Are you really sure that you’re fine, Remus dear? You are very pale. Perhaps you should go back to bed for a bit and rest.”
Considering she’d all but insisted on his presence at dinner, Remus found this a little inconsistent, but he refrained from saying so. Molly’s attitude towards him had always left him slightly puzzled. He knew from the too familiar half-glances at the mention of his condition and her nervousness regarding the presence of a werewolf in her husband’s ward at Christmas, that Molly Weasley, in spite of her efforts to feel otherwise, was not fond of the idea of werewolves. But somehow, from the first day they had met, this nervousness did not seem to include him. She treated him instead much like she treated her grown up sons, with a kind of fond protectiveness and good-natured fuss that was both sweet and exasperating at once. Remus could only assume that her children had put in a good word for him.
“I really am fine, Molly,” he reassured her quickly. “I’ve been doing this for almost thirty-four years now. I know my limits.”
Molly did not look convinced. But she made no further comment as she handed him a plate of stew and settled down beside him to eat.
“Hey Professor Lupin.” Ron deposited himself in the other seat next to Remus, Harry beside him. “Bill said he heard Moody say that you were coming back to Hogwarts this year. Is it true?”
In spite of himself, Remus smiled at the gratifying enthusiasm in Ron’s voice as he lifted a spoonful of stew. “Yes, it’s true.”
Ron’s joyful whoop almost caused him to spill it. Harry and Ginny were also grinning broadly.
“About time we had a decent teacher again.” Ron informed him happily. “Hermoine’ll be thrilled; she was worried we’d get another dud or something.”
“Couldn’t have been any worse than last year though,” Fred chipped in from across the table. “Mind you, an illiterate hippo in a tutu would have done a better job than Umbridge.”
Several spoonfuls of stew were snorted.
Molly sniffed. “Honestly, though I won’t hear a word against Dumbledore, I do wonder sometimes at the staff he employs. Not you, Remus dear, obviously,” she added hurriedly. “And of course Minerva McGonagall, strict but fair, though she’d just started out, of course, when Arthur and I were at school. But Severus Snape…”
She paused at the murmured assent of seven people at the table who had suffered through Snape as a teacher and one who had suffered him as a colleague. “I’m sure he’s a marvellous potions brewer but I’ve never seen a worse hand with children. What on earth possessed him to go into teaching, I will never know.”
“A vindictive desire to see others suffer?” George suggested with a grin.
Molly gave her son a look and continued as though he had not spoken. “I remember my first Potions teacher,” she reminisced wistfully. “Wonderful woman. Ever so patient. Even Arthur enjoyed her classes and he’s a potions disaster. We were all so upset when she left.” She fixed Remus with a glare of mock reproach. “And it was all your fault!”
Remus chuckled at the mystified stares of his companions. “I like to think my father had something to do with it.” He bore Molly’s exasperated smile at the comment with good grace. “But seriously Molly, I didn’t know you’d been taught by my mum.”
“Oh yes, first and second year before she went and got herself pregnant and resigned.” Molly smiled fondly. “You’re very like her, you know. Oh, not in looks, not at all, but you’ve the same streak of kindness in you, the same ease of manner. It’s a pleasure to see. You remind me of her very much.”
Remus was beginning to understand a little better why Molly had such a soft spot for him. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, raising his goblet to his lips.
Molly’s smile was suddenly mischievous. “I changed your nappy once.”
Remus almost choked. The far end of the table exploded with laughter.
“How recently?” Remus was fairly sure that the comment had been Fred’s although he was rather occupied at the time with trying not to hack up his lungs. Molly ignored the remark and the dull roar of sniggers determinedly.
“Professor Lupin brought you in to class one day to visit us a few weeks after you were born. She let me hold you and later I changed your nappy. It was the first time I’d ever tried.” Molly was smiling again “I made a bit of a mess of it, I’m afraid. It flopped right off when she picked you up and when I tried to rescue it by magic, well…” She grinned ruefully. “I suppose there are better ways to get a boy’s attention than accidentally banishing a nappy at him, but it certainly worked on Arthur.”
At the far end of the table, the five teenagers appeared to be having hysterical seizures. Tonks and Bill weren’t doing much better.
Remus could feel a blush spreading across his face. He stared determinedly at his meal.
“Glad I could help with your courtship,” he muttered desperately, praying for a change of subject. His prayers went unanswered.
“She brought you back again the same time the next year and the next couple of years after that,” Molly continued relentlessly. “And she let me look after you several times. But she never came back during our seventh year. I remember asking Minerva McGonagall why not. She told me…” Molly’s voice dropped to a sudden hush as she stared down at the tabletop. “She told me you’d fallen ill.”
The laughter stopped abruptly. There was an uncomfortable silence.
It was Tonks who intervened to lift the sudden curtain of gloom, sallying forth with deliberate and determined cheerfulness. “Hey Molly, I don’t suppose you’ve got pictures of baby Remus? I can just imagine him curled up in a nappy, sucking his thumb and gripping his tiny cup of tea.”
The ensuing laugh relieved the tension almost at once. Remus fixed the young Auror, her hair this evening an eye-aching bright green, with a steely stare.
“Are you making fun of me?” he declared with mock solemnity.
Tonks’ grin was wicked. “No, Remus. If I was making fun of you, I would be describing that fetching leather and hide ensemble that you…”
“Yes!” Remus leapt sharply in to cut off the rest of her sentence. “Thank you Tonks! That’s quite enough.” The blush was back. Remus could feel eight pairs of eyes drilling quizzically into him
“It was for a mission,” he added defensively. “Never again.”
The sniggers were back. He was learning to hate the sniggers.
“Awww…” Tonks was not letting this go. “But it looked so good on you…”
It was definitely time to change the subject. Casting around desperately, Remus hit upon the question he had intended to ask Harry before the term resumed. He had hoped to do it in private, but these were desperate times and they called for desperate measures.
“Harry?” he exclaimed desperately.
The teenager glanced up at once. “Yeah, Professor?”
Remus smiled more securely. “In honour of my return to Hogwarts, I was wondering if you could do me a favour.”
Harry was regarding him with not entirely unfounded uncertainty. “What kind of favour?”
“I was wondering if I could borrow the Marauder’s Map.”
Simultaneous explosions occurred as both Weasley twins projectile choked their second helpings of stew.
“Fred! George!”
But neither Fred nor George were paying any attention to their mother. Both were staring, wide eyed and open mouthed at Lupin. Their expressions of shock were identical.
Remus regarded them uncertainly for a moment. “Is everything all right?”
“Fine!”
“Great!”
“Wonderful!”
“Magnificent!”
Both twins switched their gaze with almost unnatural speed. Both glared daggers at Harry.
“Anyway…” Remus felt this was a good time to move on. “How about it, Harry? I don’t want to keep it, you’ll have it back before the beginning of term, don’t worry. I just want to make a copy.”
Harry raised his eyebrows, ignoring the grilling glare of Fred and George as he addressed his teacher. “You can make copies?”
Remus shrugged. “Well, it’s not easy but it’s easier than starting from scratch. And if I’m going back to Hogwarts, it might be a useful thing to have. Don’t worry, I won’t spread it round the staff room. It’ll be for personal use only.”
Harry grinned at that. “Okay. You want it now?”
“If you’ve got it here.”
“It’s in my room. I’ll get it.”
“Thank you.”
“Harry, mate!” Fred rocketed to his feet with such violence that the table rocked. With George only a step behind, he bolted around the table. “Can we have a word?”
The twins all but pounced on Harry as he started for the door, flinging their arms around his shoulders as they bustled him up the steps towards the hall. Remus could hear the hiss of their indignant voices as they retreated.
“You told Lupin about the map? He’s a teacher!”
“What were you thinking? It’s supposed to be secret!”
“How does he know you’ve got it?”
“How does he know what it is?”
“He knows I’ve got it because he confiscated it in third year and then gave it back to me when he left.” Harry sounded vaguely amused at the twins’ indignation; Remus suspected his misspent youth was about to be exposed. “But I didn’t tell him anything. I didn’t have to. I think there’s something you should know…”
Their voices faded as they reached the stairs. Grinning broadly, Remus turned back to the table to be met by a wide selection of intrigued and suspicious gazes. So much for drawing attention away from himself.
Tonks was the first to venture the obvious question. “What’s the Marauder’s Map then?” she inquired cheerfully.
Remus did his best to sound casual as he got to his feet and carried his plate to the sink. Ron’s snickering didn’t help. “Just a little toy that my friends and I cooked up at school.” He stared over his shoulder in the direction of the departed twins. “I’d always wondered how Harry got his hands on it, but I think I’m starting to get the idea.”
“It is dangerous?” Molly’s voice was vaguely accusatory.
Remus shook his head firmly. “Of course not. It’s just a toy. But it can be useful and besides, it has sentimental value. I wouldn’t dream of taking the original off Harry but I wouldn’t mind a copy for myself “ for old times sake.”
That seemed to satisfy Molly. Bill and Tonks both had the twinkle of suspicion in their eyes, but their wide grins implied that neither was planning to try and expose him. He grinned back appreciatively.
He’d always wondered how the map had come to fall into Harry’s hands. It was a question that he had never quite got around to asking. He knew that the map had been sealed into Filch’s filing cabinet of doom towards the end of their seventh year after James and Sirius had taken one risk too many. But in spite of the loss, neither had really minded “ they had declared it bequeathed to future generations and it certainly hadn’t stopped their great prank on the last evening of term. “The Marauder Swansong” they had called it, although Padfoot and Peter had been all for “Stagsong” until James had pointed out that stags didn’t sing. When Remus had then pointed out that swans did not sing either, the ensuing pillow fight had lasted almost an hour.
Ah, the Swansong. That was an evening and a half….
An idea had begun to form in Remus’ mind, the kind of idea that he had long though lost without the terrible influence of Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, the kind of idea in fact that would be perfect for taking his mind off things in one sense, and bringing some closure in another. He started to grin in spite of himself.
He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Would he?
Harry returned with the map a few moments later. Remus accepted the familiar tattered piece of parchment with a smile. “Thank you Harry. I’ll have this back to you as soon as I can.”
He turned towards the doorway only to find his way blocked by two redheaded statues that bore a striking resemblance to the Weasley twins.
Fred and George were staring at him as though they had never seen him before in their lives. Their mouths were hanging open. Their eyes were wide and filled with a cocktail of shock, respect and glee. Their expressions were almost awestruck against a pair of broad and euphoric grins.
Remus glanced at Harry. Harry grinned.
The werewolf raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. “Harry Potter! Have you been spreading rumours about me?”
Harry’s grin widened. The twins’ jaws slackened even further even as their eyes brightened.
“It’s true?” Remus wasn’t sure if it was Fred or George who spoke. “You made it?”
Remus chuckled. “I helped. I also picked the password.”
Awed glee melted into mischievous reverence. Remus found it strangely satisfying, a tingling reminder of a long forgotten time. Perhaps he would after all. Just this one last time. But he couldn’t do it alone…
“Actually, Fred, George, if I might have a word…” Remus tucked the map safely into his robes and placed a hand each on the twins’ shoulders as he guided them towards the door. “I think there’s something you can help me with…”
A/N: This is kind of random but… Regarding the age of Molly Weasley. I prefer to calculate the ages of Charlie and Bill Weasley by the more canon consistent “clues from POA” method rather than the less logical (ironically enough) “JK said in chat” “ this makes Charlie seven years older than Percy because they last won the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor when Charlie was seeker, seven years before Percy was Head Boy. This means that in OotP, Charlie is around 26/27 years old, which, assuming Bill is two years older, puts him at 28/29. If we believe that Molly and Arthur married and began reproducing in their late teens/early twenties, that puts them in their late forties to early fifties. Therefore, given that Snape (and therefore almost certainly Remus) is 35/36 in OotP (on this matter I do believe the chat) that means Molly was in her first few years at school when Remus was born. Not that it matters. I just enjoyed working it out. :)